


Baby Crow Loses His Wings

by nanjcsy



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Cannibalism, Dogboys, Gang Rape, Hostage Situations, Jon is on the right side of the wall with the wrong folk, M/M, Master/Pet, Ramsay is his own warning, Stannis doesn't show in time, Strange Alliances, Styr is his own warning, Torture, Wildlings win and Jon is a prize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-03-23 06:50:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3758539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/pseuds/nanjcsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Wildlings attack the Wall they manage to prevail, just barely winning. Some of the Crows are taken captive and their fates are not good ones. Jon Snow is one of these captives and special interest is taken in him by many.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caught, Crushed and Condemned

**Author's Note:**

> I have only tagged Game of Thrones TV because my version of the Thenns are just from that. I am aware in the books they are not cannibals and they are actually the advanced group in many ways. TV Thenns are all savage cannibals, fearless fighters and creepy/sexy like hell. I never thought at bald man with a strange head would be hot..yet he was somehow...ahem. sorry.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mance Rayder prevailed and has overwhelmed the Crows at the Wall. The Wildlings have won and Thenns are celebrating. They are killing and eating the Crows, all except for a few prisoners. Jon Snow is wounded and taken captive. Thenns decide to play with their prize before passing him forward till he eventually gets to Mance Rayder.

Jon coughed and coughed on the heavy smoke. The smells were horrific, almost making Jon not feel the wounds keeping him from moving. It took another minute before Jon was able to turn over enough to see through the dark clouds swirling about him. Screaming registered then, men were bloody, some dead everywhere. Brothers, men he hated or liked, all dead. No, not all because the screaming wasn't one person alone, most were moaning, but there was screaming too. He began to drag himself forward, looking for Ghost, for a weapon, anything. There were men left that needed defense, needed help. Jon yanked an arrow out of his shoulder and forced his legs to work. His left leg was injured somehow, Jon limped badly. He tried to lift an axe he found but his right hand was nearly useless. Fingers were all black and twisted. He wasn't as good with his left hand, but Jon grasped the axe tighter and limped forward.

It was very hard to see and Jon nearly tripped over his own pet. Seeing his wolf nearly cut in half brought tears to Jon's eyes and a burning rage to his heart. He continued forward in search of Brothers to save. They can organize an escape and live to attack another day. Except Jon saw why those men were screaming and all his calm planning went to hell. There was Samwell being carefully eviscerated by a Thenn while two others held him down, laughing at the dying squeals. Pigs squeal like that at their slaughter. It was too late to save him as they tossed his twitching, large body into a large pot of boiling water. It held the cook's stew for years, all the brothers ate from it, now it would feed the brothers to their enemies. Crow stew, thought Jon with horror and disgust. Jon may have tried to continue in hiding to find wounded but moving men. Except he saw a wounded man that lurched from nowhere to attack the three Thenns boiling Sam. It was Alliser Thorne and his rage carried his grievously wounded body forward. The man managed to run a sword through one of the cannibals. Jon surged forward then and killed another by putting his axe through the man's head, clumsily.

The third man gave a trilling whistle before he attacked and put his cleaver through Alliser's neck. Jon managed to dispatch the man while he was pulling his cleaver out of the body. He starred to run, hearing others coming but an arrow through his damaged leg brought him down. Still, he fought, clawing his way to a sitting position, still wielding the small axe, snarling in desperation. Two Thenns, one with another arrow notched and pointed at Jon, came forward towards him. "Did no one tell you, boy? It is all over, the Crows are slaughtered, Wall is ours now. Our King sits inside nice and toasty warm at your fires. Put the axe down and I'll make your death fast, you won't feel a thing." The man sounded almost kindly but Jon tightened his grip. "Go ahead and kill me. But I am going to try and make sure this axe takes at least one of you with me." He boasted, preparing to launch the axe into the closest bald head. Jon was ready to die, to join his brothers in death. A man, larger than the others, larger than Mance or Tormund appeared out of the smoke. He saw Jon and came closer, putting a hand on the man's arrow, lowering it.

"Well, aren't you a pretty looking one? I know who you are, Jon Snow, Mance's baby Crow, that fucked Ygritte then fucked over Mance. Don't put an arrow or sword through this one, no. I want him to watch us kill and eat his friends, his brothers. Do not feed him anything unless it is a juicy bit of Crow stew. Only water, we do not want to kill our new friend here. I have some plans for our pretty little bird. He growls like a wolf pup. Maybe that is what he really is. We shall find out soon enough." Jon cursed and threatened, but the three men overpowered him. The axe was taken away, Jon was unable to keep hold of it. Weakened and hurt, he was no match for the men. they kicked and punched until he was curled up, whimpering. His arms were protecting his head and then a sharp prick was felt against his testicles. Jon cried out but didn't dare to move as the large Thenn grinned, looming over him. "Now, are you ready to be a good baby crow? Or do you need another beating first? We won't kill you, just keep hurting you worse and worse. We are excellent at flaying, did you know that about us? I am going to flay you, just your cock, but it will be more pain than you have ever felt. If you continue to resist me, I am going to flay you. Are you understanding me, boy?" Jon nodded. "Good boy."

Jon kept still and fumed as the men roughly tied his hands behind his back. One of them brought over a length of rope with a noose on it. He pulled away, panicking, but the large Thenn fixed him with a deadly look. Pulling out the flaying knife, he tilted his head and stared at Jon, freezing him with silent warning. Jon growled but stayed still as one of them put the noose over his head and made it tight. It was not enough to choke him, but when the large Thenn took hold of it and pulled, it tightened more. Trying to breathe, Jon was forced to follow behind the Thenns as they walked further into horror, dragging Jon with them. He watched in tears as so many of his fellow brothers were slaughtered for meat. How could Mance allow this? Some of them were hacked to death, left to rot, wounded men ignored, to scream out their last before being made into food. Others that were taken captive were tied and waiting to find out their fate. Jon was brought past the small makeshift pen that contained Pyp, Griff and three others, all bloody and trying to not look terrified. They watched Jon stagger past them, led by his rope and Jon hated that they saw him this way. Up ahead were two survivors and this is where the largest Thenn took him. With a shove, the man sent Jon to his knees, next to Gilly. 

The girl was tied hands and feet, plus a gag in her mouth. Jon looked up questioningly at the Thenn. "She is just a girl who was here for safety's sake, for her and her child. Where is the baby? Why is she bound and gagged?" Shrugging, the Thenn responded casually. "I will admit, we are not above killing babies, little crow. None of us killed her baby though, it was one of your own that did it. That fat, greying fuck rotting over there." With a long curved knife he has chosen to now play with, he pointed toward the body of Jonas Slynt. "When they were found in the storage room, the man grabbed her baby. He tried to offer the baby and the woman in exchange for his life. An arrow through his throat answered his question. The coward fell upon the baby, crushing it when he died. The girl went wild, screaming and attacking. I must say, this young lady was impressive in her agony. She nearly killed a man before they knocked her out. We heard she was skilled in cooking, preparation of food. We do not need her to fix our food, but the other Wildlings might enjoy a meal in the Keep. If she can stay behaved, she can become a slave and cook for Mance Rayder. Not a bad position, better than death." With a leer at the girl who stared back stonily, the man said, "I expect some of the men will have other duties for the one pretty little crow girl we have here."

Someone shifted next to Gilly and Jon saw that Olly, the little boy whose parents were killed and eaten by Thenns. That boy looked smaller and younger than ever before, bound with thick rope around his arms and chest. Jon was shoved against a post and then forced to kneel. The knife caressed his face, the man was so close, his leg nearly touched Jon's head. "Now I am going to tie your leash to this post. You are going to stay kneeling and quiet for me while I do that. If you don't I will break both your legs and you won't walk anywhere for a long time." "I won't move." Jon gritted out as the blade slowly slid away. "Good boy." The man gave an approving pat to Jon's head and stood back up. Tying the rope to the post, the Thenn continued to speak. "You have such long pretty hair, baby crow. It is perfect, matches that face of yours. So pretty. I wonder how you will look when we remove it?" The Thenn moved away from Jon and grabbed Olly by his collar.

The young boy tried to bite him and he cuffed the boy hard. "Bad boy. You need manners, little boy! Don't worry, we are going to teach you manners. First, let's go watch them cook your new-found protectors." Jon and Gilly had no choice but to watch as the large cannibal forced the young child to watch the men slaughtered and made into stew. Some were roasted over fires, limbs of men that Jon has lived with, fought with. Olly screamed in terror and despair as the despicable men forced a spoonful of stew down the boy's throat. The large one cooed and soothed the boy as he vomited all over himself. Jon growled and Gilly stared with eyes filled with ice. Mance won't stand for this happening, I need to find Mance. Jon thought frantically, uselessly pulling at his bonds. Or Tormund, he will just take my head and have done with it! But he will see the boy and girl safe, at least safe as prisoners. If only someone would come, but only more Thenns did.


	2. Wolf Pup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Styr introduces himself to Jon Snow and tells him what the future holds. Jon learns what it means to no obey his new master.

Finally pity was taken or perhaps the large Thenn became bored. He threw the sobbing, gagging boy back next to Gilly and then walked over to Jon. As soon as the man approached, Jon forced himself to stay still, back almost against the pole. His feet firmly planted on the snowy ground. "Now I am very sure I left you kneeling, didn't I, Crow?" Jon lifted his chin and said, "Yes. You never said I had to stay kneeling." "Oh? I wasn't clear enough for you? Alright, Jon Snow. Then you can only blame your pride for this. Now you will be perfectly clear about orders from me." Two men grabbed him and pulled his arms back. Jon's eyes dilated with fear as the man got a hammer.

Jon hollered and pleaded for mercy to no avail. The hammer smashed into his wounded knee and Jon grayed out for a moment. A harsh slap on his face brought him back. Crouching down, nearly in Jon's face, the man spoke very softly, so very calm after such violence. "Baby crow, do I need to smash the other wing too? So let me explain this in great detail so you really understand me. Will you listen or should I take the other wing, baby crow?" Jon grit his teeth against the pain, trying to not writhe away from this overbearingly close man. "I will listen." 

The hammer rested lightly on his good knee as a clear warning as the Thenn spoke. "You are not a guest here or even a valuable hostage, Jon Snow. That name doesn't really mean anything now except pain and degradation for you. Possibly a very bad death if Mance sees you. Let me be very clear, you are a prisoner and I am going to make you my slave. At least for awhile, til I am done breaking you down, then maybe I will give you to Mance. Or if you please me, perhaps I will keep you. So when I tell you to do something, you do it. You do not get to stand, sit or do anything without my permission." Jon's eyes flashed and it near killed him not to respond, but he dared not lose his other knee to that hammer.

Smirking, the Thenn watched the anger flash in Jon's face and he almost tenderly caressed those locks of hair. "Oh, little pet! That isn't the look of a crow! That snarl, those narrowed eyes are of a wolf. A wolf pup after all. So let us get you out of that garb, you are no man in black anymore." Pulling out his blade, the man began to cut off all of Jon's clothing. "Let me tell you who I am. I am Styr. You are going to know me as Master. Now what do you think I want to hear you say?" Jon couldn't say it, it lodged in his throat and bile rose. "Foolish little puppy. You must learn to show me respect." The calm voice was followed by a terrible sight. The hammer rose slowly and Jon screamed out wildly. "Please, Master! Yes Master, I understand! Please don't!"

His face was flushed with humiliation but relief when Styr lowered the hammer. "That is much better, boy." Styr went back to removing Jon's clothing. Jon shivered in the freezing air as he was now curled naked, teeth chattering. "I am going to untie your hands and you will put them at your sides." Jon found he didn't dare rebel and his tight fists stayed at his sides.  In a move that made no sense at first to any of the prisoners, Styr untied the rope on the post, then tied it around his own waist. Jon still had a bit of length, not much but enough to keep almost out of reach. Without a word, Styr began to order his men to different duties, ignoring Jon completely. He did whisper an order to a man that caused them both to grin at Jon. Trying not to whine or cry at the pain, Jon dragged himself on one knee and two hands after the Thenn.

After a bit the reasoning behind this strange new torment was clear. The wind picked up and Jon was so cold. He had no choice but to hide behind the large legs against the wind. Jon pressed his naked shivering body against the furred man to keep warm. "Go under my cloak and curl against my leg, wolf pup." Suggested his hateful master and as much as it made him seethe, Jon obeyed. He found himself whimpering in relief to finally feel warm. The body warmth and the furs made it worth wrapping himself against this mans leg. Jon never knew that Mance had come past the courtyard at that time, along with Tormund. He just assumed the Thenn did not want to freeze his new plaything to death. Jon scurried after Styr the best he could, staying under the swirling furs, pressing low against the leg when the man was still.

"Ah! Here are some new clothes for you, Jon. Now you will look just like what you are, wolf pup!" Styr pulled Jon out into the icy air and showed him the blood stained stitched furs. "Your dog served you in life, now he can keep you warm in death. He shall serve you forever, like a good pet should. Like you will learn to do." Jon growled at the sight of the fur and wrench away the best he could. A resounding slap across his face made Jon go still, gritting his teeth. "You will put the furs on now, wolf pup. What should you say and do now, boy?" Styr's calm voice was patient, instructional but there was an edge, a threat looming unseen. Jon's face was too pale to turn red anymore, but he squirmed as he tried to stare the man in the eyes. "Yes Master. I will put on the furs." Styr was pleased at the response but still gave a very hard kick into Jon's stomach. "Do you really dare to challenge me, Jon? If not then you best move faster." Jon put on his wolf and it covered in him long ragged strips from neck to feet. "There, a little wolf pup that needs training. And it will be my pleasure to do it, pet."


	3. Bad Puppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon tries to plead before Tormund, then Mance for his death rather than what Styr wants for him. Jon's plans backfire on him horribly.

It did not take long for word to spread throughout Castle Black about the largest most fierce Thenn and a man that looked as small as a boy crawling next to him. More importantly, word has spread to all the Lords of the North that the Wildings are massing on the wrong side of the Wall. So even if Mance were inclined to care about what his cannibals were doing, it wasn't a big concern. Making sure that his dead were burned, his wounded were treated and fed so they can fight on were important and all he was thinking of. Hearing that there was a child and woman that could cook were being held by the Thenns did catch his attention.

Tormund swore and kicked a stool out of his way when Mance sent him to where the Thenns have made their camp. A few of them slept in the lower rooms, but most preferred tents in the practice area. Trying not to gag at the stench of cooking men, hiding his disgust for the butchery before him, Torumd looked for Styr. It did not take long, he towered over Tormund, over everyone here. Walking past a huge area of cooking Crows, Tormund spotted the girl and boy against a post. Both were tied and unharmed from what he could see. "Styr. Mance wants the hostages. If the girl can cook, she can live." "You ruined my surprise. I wanted to bring them myself as a present for him. I will bring them now." A choked sound was heard from behind Styr, causing the large cannibal to smile at Tormund, but stomp backwards. Tormund saw a huddled figure in bloody wolf fur and heard a yelp. "Is that the new pet we all have been hearing about? Gods, they are right, even curled like that I can tell he is regular Crow size. Next to you he looks like a little pill-bug. A baby Crow for a pet, Styr?"

Then a hoarse voice came in spite of the warning growl and the stomping. "Tormund, please! Take me to Mance, I deserve his sentence, not this." With a groan then a bark of laughter, Tormund went around Styr to look down at Jon Snow. "I was hoping to find your body. Look at the troubles you have caused yourself, Jon Snow. You should have stayed with us, fought with us." Sighing heavily, Tormund moved away and helped Gilly to her feet after untying her ankles. As he did the same with Olly, he said, "Styr, Jon should come too. Mance will want to know his little traitor is still alive and suffering." Styr nodded slowly then said, "He can see Jon all he likes, have a wonderful chat, but I have claimed him. I won't give him up so easily because Mance is king." "I don't give a fuck what happens, just bring him along with these two now." As Tormund helped the two begin to walk, Styr reached down to pull Jon up by his hair. Crying out, trying to balance on his one working leg, Jon stared up at the cannibal. The relief and defiance Styr saw in Jon's eyes amused him. "Do you think you are clever? Do you think Mance will save you from me, from this? You have been naughty again, pet. Stupid little puppy, I am going to punish you for this afterwards. And I am going to do it in front of those wounded Crows in that pen."

Yanking on the rope until Jon nearly strangled several times, Styr walked into the Keep. Jon struggled to drag himself behind the cannibal. At one point, he grabbed onto the furs swirling around his hated Master, hoping to pull himself along. A foot caught Jon in the face and he gagged on blood, now dizzy too. Styr did not stop until they were inside the mess hall of Castle Black. Mance and several others were there, discussing their next move forward. "You won't believe this one, Mance. Take a good look at Styr's famous little pet." Called out Tormund only happy to irritate Styr by stealing his thunder. "And the two captives were with him too. Styr was getting quite a collection." Shoving past Tormund with clear menace at him, Styr stood before Mance. "I captured the girl and boy to bring you as a little gift, but this cunt had to ruin my surprise. They are not injured and I was told the girl cooks and the boy can serve. I would have killed the little runt, but I remember meeting him before. I sent him here after all, only right that I should grab him again. But this is what Tormund wants you to see." Yanking hard on the rope, Styr let Jon crawl into the firelight. Mance stared down at the beaten, crippled Jon and said, "Oh, Jon Snow, I had really hoped to see you again. Styr, this is truly a great gift and I will be seeing that you are rewarded well for it."

"You misunderstand. I am letting you see that I am taking this one as my pet. He isn't really a Crow, he is a dog...a puppy, my pet. Once he is trained properly, Jon will understand he never was meant for such a life as a Crow anyway. He will understand what he really is. I am not giving him to you, Mance. He is mine. The girl and boy are for you." In a burst of desperation, no longer caring about shame, Jon tried to crawl to Mance. "Take my head! I betrayed you and Ygritte, all of you! Kill me and let me be with my brothers, Mance. You are honorable, you would never have been treated this way if we had won. Please, don't let Styr do this." Styr gave a sigh then started to drag Jon back by the rope. "No. Styr, we shall negotiate. I want Jon's head, not his torment. What else would you have in exchange?" Shaking his head, Styr spoke slowly. "I want a pet. I chose this one, but before I saw Jon, I had grabbed this boy as a possibility. So if you really want Jon, then I will take back the little child instead." Staring up in horror, Jon croaked in horror when Mance seemed to deliberate then gave sharp nod. "Fine, take him, leave me the girl and Jon." Styr let go of the rope and gave a malicious grin at Jon. Then grabbed Olly who screamed and tried to writhe away. "No! How can you let this happen?" Jon cried out, staring up at Mance, trying to struggle to stand on one foot now.

With a look of pity, Mance said, "We are freefolk. I cannot dictate how Thenns or any one man or woman should live. If Styr is denied his pet, he will take his people and leave. He has the right to, I wouldn't stop him from moving South on his own. But I need his strength in numbers right now, I cannot afford to make him angry enough to leave. So it's either you or the boy, Jon. I am going to let you decide. I can take your head, or you can be pet to a Thenn. Either way, Styr leaves this room with one of you if he wants to."  Jon stifled a sob, he couldn't let Olly be taken by this savage beast. Styr knew it and Jon glared at the amused sadistic Thenn leader staring down at him. Styr began to run his large hands along the panicking boy, watching Jon struggle with himself. "Stop, please. I will stay with you, do what you want, let Olly go." Cocking his head, Styr smiled but pulled Olly closer. "Spoken like a proud noble Crow. But my pet isn't a crow. He is a whimpering puppy that knows how to address his Master. Do you think Olly will learn faster than you, Jon?" With a growl of frustration, Jon began to drag himself on the floor again, towards Styr, hating all of them, even himself. He hated himself most because part of him was so tempted to cowardice, to not saving Olly. Yet his pride and fear was not worth giving a child to this cannibal. "Master, please. I am your pet. Not the boy."

Styr thrust the boy away from him and beckoned Jon with his hand. "Come here then pet. Take the rope in your mouth and bring it to me. We shall get you a proper leash, but for now, bring me your rope." With a snarl of important anger, Jon bit the rope and dragged himself to Styr. Taking the rope from Jon's mouth, Styr gave his stubborn pet a small pat on the head. "I am glad you remembered you are indeed just a little puppy in need of my care." He taunted, then asked Mance if he needed anything else from him. Mance shook his head and he watched with a grimace as Styr dragged Jon away. Tormund shuddered and said, "I never thought I would feel bad for Jon Snow." Mance agreed and with a heavy conscience put it out of his mind, turning to see the frightened two captives. Even as he explained to them about their new status as servants, Mance heard Jon scream from a distance and winced. The sound was full of pain and mourning, like a dying wolf.


	4. Death Was Never So Pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Styr accuses Jon of still being a Crow. He makes sure his punishment is designed to let every Crow there now what Jon really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will say that this chapter is fueled by pure emotion I need to release...like Joff I need a pretty thing to hurt. Sorry ahead of time...it's going to be brutal, so hold hands.

As soon as they got to the yard, Styr let go of the rope and began to drag Jon by his hair. Whining in pain, Jon found himself forced to hop on one leg like a frog with a broken limb. Styr spoke very clearly  and calmly, carefully enunciating each word. "Oh, that was quite impressive to watch, Jon. I enjoyed it very much, it was a great performance. A pure moment of noble sacrifice and so noble, a little bastard lord, a Crow." The last word was spit with such menace that Jon cringed. "First you called upon honor and proudly you offered your head...since you are my pet, you offered my pet's death. Then you were so noble, offering yourself back to me to save the little boy. Such a martyr, how proud your brothers would be of you. If I let you tell them all about it, they would just write songs and ballads of your brave sacrifice. You told Mance you were a Wildling, no Crow and you were so convincing. So now I cannot believe you when you say you are no Crow. I cannot trust that you understand you are nothing more than a mangy puppy, a runt. So this punishment will be very painful for you, not just in your body. It is meant to rip every fucking feather out of you, Crow."

Styr dragged Jon by one large fist in his hair over to a large butchers table, still slick with Crow blood. Using his free hand, Styr pulled the table over in front of the pen. He quickly ripped the wolf skin off Jon and threw it in the dirty snow. By now they had the full attention of the Crows, all grimly watching the torment of Jon. They all gave the same steely glare at Styr, regardless of the fear, there was defiance. Forcing their faces stiff along with thier bodies, the Crows tried to give nothing. Yet the silent support for Jon was there and his pet drew from it. Grinning, Styr let it grow for a moment. Even the men that might have hated Jon before, they only saw a brother now, a fellow brother being tortured by the enemy. And that made it even better. Naked, injured, Jon still could raise his eyes and chin, seeing the noble, honorable men. His fellow Crows, his brothers. Grimly amused Styr thought to himself, say goodbye to your brothers, baby crow. As he pulled Jon up straight, almost dangling off the ground, Styr went so hard. Death was always exciting, but it was never so pretty as this. Gleefully, Styr slammed Jon hard against the pen, fracturing a rib. Jon tried to smother a cry as the powerful man pinned him hard into the wood. "I could tie your wrists to these posts, but that would give you a chance to be noble. To look like a poor crow that was being made into a matyr. Something the men can look at proudly. Let's see if we can make them all wince instead."

One hand was pressed against Jon's back and the other grabbed his right arm. Then a sharp tug and a terrible pop happened. Jon nearly bit through his own lip to keep from screaming at the flaring horror in his shoulder. Styr let the arm dangle in a hideous marionette pose over the fence bar. Collective small sounds were heard in the pen but when Styr went to the other arm, it was worse. Grinning maliciously at every Crow in the pen, Styr slowly rotated Jon's arm out of the socket. Jon gave a dreadful moaning wail and every man winced in wretched sympathy. Yet again Styr put the arm in a strange, grotesque position. Looking up towards the Thenn that has been doing most of the cooking, he called him over. Every man instinctively moved closer to where Jon was, to get away from the horror with butcher knives in his fists. "I am going to give our wounded, tired Crows a little show. If any of them are ungrateful enough to look away from it, I want them served as my dinner tonight. And I want them skinned and roasted alive." With a leer, the Thenn nodded and carefully watched every Crow. Like true birds of a feather, every eye turned to stare blankly at Jon and Styr. "Jon, if you look away from your brothers at any point without permission, I am going to castrate you. Then you will watch as I eat your balls and cock for dinner. Might even make you have a taste. Do you understand me?" As softly as possible Jon spoke while staring at the brothers. "Yes Master." With a clucking sound and a yank on Jon's hair, Styr said, "Louder. When you speak I want every Crow to hear you."

Jon's voice sounded like gravel and he gritted his teeth. "Yes Master." "It was very hard for you to say that in front of your noble brothers. To have them hear you call me Master just hurts your pride worse than me dislocating your arms. Don't worry, when our lesson is over, you will never have a problem calling me Master in front of anyone." Styr looked over the Crows noting that two men in particular seemed very concerned for Jon. They must be closer friends and Styr was utterly gleeful. With a smile so sadistic, it made every man move back slightly, Styr pointed at a tall thin man. "You there, what is your name?" With a chin thrust forward and eyes darting in fear from Jon to Styr, he proudly said, "Pyp." A snort from the cook, who then sneered, "You look like a Pyp. Don't bother looking this way, you don't have enough meat. I would have to boil you for a weak broth." With a small chuckle shared with the other Thenns that have now wandered over, Styr spoke to the now terrified, offended Crow. "Pyp, is it true that any Crow who is NOT grievously wounded would not carry on like a maid? A Crow would not scream, sobbing tears and snot over less than grievous wounds?" Pyp gave a sharp nod and said, "Not unless he was grievously wounded." Pointing now at the man next to Pyp, Styr asked, "What is your name, Crow?" "Griff." "Now Griff, would a Crow, one of your very noble and proud brothers beg? Grovel and plead for mercy, beg to not be hurt anymore please, unless grievously wounded?" Griff confirmed this and Styr leaned closer to Jon. "Did you hear that? Did you hear what Pyp and Griff, your loyal brothers said?" Jon said, "Yes Master, I heard them." "Wonderful. Now we all concur then, a true Crow would not do any of those things unless grievously injured." 

All the Crows warily nodded at the Thenn's expectant look. Satisfied with the response, Styr threw Jon over the butchers table. When Jon's arms dangled uselessly as Styr moved him, the men softly echoes Jon's agonized moans. He positioned Jon carefully, arms splayed out, legs splayed over the side, ass up. Styr held Jon's head up so he could continue to watch his brothers. Panting in panic and pain, Jon tried not to show it, to control it by gaining strength from his Crows. "Men, it seems that my little wolf pup thinks he is still a Crow. In spite of this sweet ass of his, I only wish to fuck my pet. So anyone who feels that they want to fuck a baby bird, feel free. I am sure his hole has never been tighter than right now, so use the brothers blood to help you. Plenty of it on the table here, I am sure the Crows would want to help Jon." Whimpering in near hysteria, Jon desperately tried to move away somehow. Styr held Jon's head in an iron grip and a man already was grabbing Jon's hips. When the man plunged his cock into Jon, the slick blood didn't help the pain at all. It was all consuming, invading, as if he were flayed from inside. Jon screamed before he could control it. The helplessness, the intolerable tipping pain inside was causing tears and snot to stream down his face. By the time the fifth man was raping him, Jon was begging. The blurred faces went through every stage of horror with him it seemed. Then the brothers gave pity, gave mercy and silently every man urged Jon to surrender. To give in and cast off his Crow family.

"Please, Master make it stop. I am sorry, I am your pet, not a Crow!" "Are you begging me for mercy and protection, little puppy?" "Yes! Yes, mercy, mercy! Master, please!" "Alright then, little wolf pup, you take this last man like a very good submissive pet and he will be the end of it. The other ten men will have to find other pleasures instead." Jon shuddered at the mere thought as the men all groaned in disappointment. Jon screamed one last time as the largest cock yet tore its way into the bloody hole. Then Jon sobbed and whined as Styr began to gently pet his hair as his pet was savagely thrust into over and over. When the man had finished and the others began to disperse, Styr helped his pet off the table. Then he picked him up tenderly and laid him in a large bucket of hot water. At first Jon panicked, thinking Styr was about to boil him for dinner. "Please, don't, Master, I was good." "Hush, foolish puppy. I am not cooking you, I am bathing you. I don't want to be full of come and blood when I take you later. Now enjoy the nice warmth, relax, be calm, little pet. Master is going to take care of his little pet." Jon cried silently as he tried to obey and force his agonizingly pained body to relax. Without any warning, Styr popped Jon's right shoulder back in. Jon cried out, then again when Styr fixed his left shoulder. "I wouldn't put too much strain on them for tonight, pet." Making soothing noises at him, Styr rubbed Jon's cheek, pulling hair out of his face. "Crows have hair, soft as feathers like yours. Are you a Crow?" With a look of panic, Jon shook his head fast. "Not a Crow, Master. Just your pet, your puppy."

"That is what I thought. Now stay very still for me, little wolf. I know you are very skittish, cowardly and easily panicked. But if you move the wrong way my blade will take off more than hair." Jon eyed the sharp blade that Styr had pulled from his belt. The whole time Styr sheared the hair from Jon's head and body as if he were a lamb, his pet was still. And the Crows never looked away. When Jon was bald, not even a pubic hair left to him, Styr pulled him out of the water. He allowed Jon to wrap himself in Ghost's pelt and then Styr put the last nail into the heart of every noble and loyal Crow. And a shattering permanently of Lord Snow.  Forcing Jon to sit on his lap while resting upon the butcher table, Styr yelled to the frustrated cannibals. "Never again shall any man fuck my pet or hurt him in any way without my permission. However, you can slake your lust on this bunch of Crows. Until I come up with who to eat next, they can be whores for all Thenns." As the brutal cannibals began to rush the appalled Crows, Styr whispered to his constantly whimpering, weeping pet. "Watch and do not look away."


	5. An Angry Baby Crow and A Nameless Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olly discovers a new reason to keep living. Jon finds himself clinging to Styr against his own will and begins to break.

Jon was grateful for his tears now, they blurred the terrible scene in front of him. The screams and cries of the Crows was shattering any sanity left. Any last piece of Jon Snow, brother Jon, a Crow was being shredded away, nestled in a Thenn's lap, a cannibal tongue licking his tears as if a fine wine. Styr was so much stronger and larger, with all the power behind him and Jon has nothing left. Mance and Tormund will not intervene, Jon cannot fight nor escape and he cannot save a single soul. Sagging against this hated and feared new master, Jon watched the blurred violence and whined deep in his throat, unable to stop it.

Mance looked at the dead eyed girl and the angry boy trying to hide his tears. The howls of Jon came through with the wind and the boy flinched. He knew there was no point in trying to speak with them tonight and ordered they be brougth to a cell to rest. Stressing that they were not to be harmed in any way, knowing the men were leering at the girl. Maybe at the boy as well, so Mance made it clear that anyone who touched them would lose a hand. Grumbling, the men started to drag them away as Mance said to Tormund loudly, "A servant with bow legs or broken bones cannot serve me well, can they?" Tormund agreed then swore as Jon gave another heart wrenching howl then fell silent. Shaking his head, he downed an entire mug of ale. "They have plenty of this watery drink, but nothing to get a man drunk! If I have to hear this all night, I need to be drunk, Mance."  Heavily, the king agreed.

The Wildlings did not touch Gilly or Olly but to shove them into a small room. However, the ripest one grinned sadistically and said he hoped they enjoyed the view out the window. Gilly didn't care and merely sunk onto the stool in the tiny storage room. The men had cleared it out earlier so it could serve as a room for prisoners. All that remained were a chair, small table, a stool and some blankets. Two buckets were provided, one empty and one with some water. Grabbing the empty bucket, Olly ran to the window and stood on it to see out. Wrapping his hands around the freezing stone, digging into his skin til it bled, Olly watched. His tears froze on his face as he saw his hero, Jon Snow brutally raped by Thenns. He heard him cry and beg, scream then denounce the Crows. Olly silently stared with hatred at Styr as he broke Jon into something else. Then he stood there, blood dripping down stone, tears turned to ice on his cheeks as he watched the Thenns attack his injured brothers. Hatred warmed him, burned his heart away and Olly knew his purpose in life. He would kill Styr, then proceed to spend the rest of his bloody days destroying the Wildlings.

Jon lay limp against Styr and sobbed. "Aw..poor little broken puppy. Do you want your Master to show you some mercy? Do you want to not watch these Crows anymore? You can tell me, I won't hurt you for answering my question." The voice sounded so gentle and Jon was beyond tormented and hurt. "Yes, please Master. I don't want to look anymore." Jon hated how easily that damned word was coming to his tongue already. He found himself flinching away from his own anger, it could get him hurt if Styr saw it. "Good puppy, speaking so timidly, I like that. I will give you some mercy for behaving so well." Large arms lifted Jon as if he were indeed just a small wolf pup and Jon felt small, very small. Styr stood up and headed for a small room on the lower floors that he has taken as his own. "I prefer sleeping in fur covered tents but as Magnar I have a status to follow. At least that is what my followers think, since they set this up for me." Syr was speaking conversationally to the whimpering man in his arms, as if they were just walking together.

He lay Jon onto a pile of furs on the floor and eased himself down next to the shivering man. Smirking, Styr knew it wasn't the cold making the man shake, Jon was quite used to the air and this room was well shielded from the worst of it. A fire had been lit, it was a small one,but it kept the bite away. No, Jon was cowed, he was terrified and in pain. Styr wanted to take him this way, but he knew Jon wouldn't be able to without ripping worse. Styr did not want to need a healer, he wanted his pet all to himself. Leaning over his new toy, Styr gently began to remove Jon's wolfskin. "Please, please don't, Master. I can't..I can't do that anymore...it has ripped me...please?" Jon begged, not daring to try and move away or stop the undressing. "Hush, Jon. I am not going to fuck you, I have other things we can do. We shall wait until you have healed a little more, I only want you thinking of my cock when I take you." Jon was grateful, to his great shame which seems to have returned, he thanked Styr. When the man grabbed Jon's head and pushed his cock into Jon's mouth, he gagged. "No teeth, puppy or I will remove all of them." Styr growled and Jon whimpered, trying to relax his throat. Careful of his teeth, Jon endured the thrusting and concentrated on not vomiting when Styr came. "Swallow it, pet." Jon never felt less like a Crow, a Wolf, a Lord or a man as he did struggling to choke down his master's seed. He was nothing, a broken pet. And Jon wished he couldn't even remember his name.


	6. Obedient Servants And A Defiant Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olly and Gilly meet with Mance. They agree to work but wait for a chance, to avenge.  
> Jon is resurfacing as he heals and has trouble with accepting his fate with Styr.  
> Mance and Tormund hear news from a scout and make a decision.

Olly and Gilly worked without words, without emotion. They slept at night in their little storage room and ate when they could. Mance saw that they were not harmed not were they worked to the bone as the prisoners were. The wounded crows had been tended. Those deemed able to recover were forced to build reinforced gates and destroyed buildings. They endured little food, extreme weather, rape and abuse from not just Thenns, but any Wildling who is feeling sadistic or aroused. The ones that were wounded too much were slaughtered and eaten. Olly and Gilly saw this and said nothing. Did nothing but what they were told to do. The boy waited for the right time and the girl was as well.

Gilly had not spoken much to anyone at all, except when Mance first spoke to her the next day. "I was Craster's daughter. A very gentle man, a very brave one, saved me and my son. You know who my father was, you know what he did with our sons. Samwell Tarly killed a White Walker. He knew how to do that and where to find more weapons against them. He knew about their army, he saw it. That all died with him. The way to defeat what is coming right through all walls is in a cannibal's belly. I saved my boy from my father and from a White Walker, just for him to die because of a Wildling, my own people. You killed the only two people who truly loved me. The only ones I ever loved. I will work for you, but I will never forgive their deaths."

Mance had sighed and turned to the angry boy. "Will I be having trouble with you, young man? Or will you work for me, serve me? I will tell you, it will be worse to work with the older men outside, much worse." Olly gave the man a stony look and bit out words past icy hatred. "I will serve you. I will do what I am told. Can you keep the savages from raping and abusing us? If not, I might as well take my chances with them outside." Olly was terrified of his own audacity, he couldn't bear being raped. What if he was too rash in his words? Shaking his head and giving a bitter smile, Tormund gave a the boy a whack to his head. "Put away that attitude of yours, little birdie." Mance held out his hand and helped the boy stand straight again. "I will not allow anyone to rape or abuse my obedient servants." He stressed the word obedient and Olly gave a stiff nod. Olly tried to not show his relief that Mance did not just throw him to the Thenns.

Jon was having some trouble today with obedience himself. It has been a few weeks now and things that shouldn't seem normal do. He knows how things should look, how the courtyard should be. He remembers the schedules even though none of that matters anymore. The Crows, the men he can no longer claim as brothers, do not look like they did before. Filthy, their clothing in rags about them, cringing at whips and rough hands. He is no longer ashamed when they see him. That is bothering Jon worst of all. That his feelings are just sucked away or changed by this giant cannibal. His master. Hating him, fearing him, that was normal but so was gratitude when Styr was pleased with him. Jon knew worse change would come, that he would eventually succumb to this deranged new normalcy. Even after his leg healed, he would never walk right again.

Styr allowed Jon to see a healer when his leg started to turn black and swell. The man straightened the bones and bound them. Yet he could only tell Jon that he would be severely crippled. When Jon cried over it that night, thinking Styr was sleeping, he heard that deep soothing voice he hated. "Don't worry, pet. I like you crawling better than walking anyway. It pleases me and that should please you. When do I hurt you the most, Jon?" Trying to suppress his sobs, Jon replied shakily, "When I am disobedient, Master." "Were you being disobedient when I hit your leg with my hammer?" Nodding, allowing Styr to pull him into his large arms. "Yes. I won't disobey, Master." And Styr chuckled because both of them knew it wouldn't just be that easy. It hadn't been so far.

Jon wore a collar that Styr made him and a long length of rope attached to it. He crawled the best he could after Styr while the man was out of the room. He told Jon once he felt he could trust his pet better, Jon would be allowed to go without the leash. So Jon tried to keep up, to never pull on his hated leash, hoping to earn freedom from it. He did not speak unless Styr gave permission to. Jon did not look at the other men, he kept his eyes on the ground or on his Master. There were many mistakes made before Jon learned this correct behavior. When Jon was annoyed with the rope yanking him about one day, he started to chew on it. He was hoping to chew through the damned thing, but Styr caught him at it. Right in front of the Crows, finally getting to sit and eat some gruel, shaking with fatigue and hunger. Styr took off his whip and used it until Jon cried like a babe and begged his master to stop. He scurried to his Master's feet and kissed them for forgiveness. And he did not care who saw it.

One time while Styr was speaking with Mance and Tormund, he had left Jon tethered to a post in the courtyard. Jon sat there and silently watched the Crows all working. Griff staggered by and fell down. Jon had enough slack to crawl over to Griff and help him get back up. The man said nothing to Jon, what could they say? But Griff gave a small nod and Pyp helped the prisoner move onward. A few seconds later Jon heard a voice that filled him with dread. "Was it a good feeling to help out your brother?" Stammering in panic, he peeked up at Styr, flinching at the stony look down at him. "No Master! I am only your pet. Not a Crow, I have no brothers." Sneering, his Master kicked Jon hard, breaking a rib. "You were just helping that man. I watched you do it. Did I tell you to do that? Did any Wildling tell you to do it?" "No Master. I am sorry. I won't do it again."

That was not enough of course. Styr beat Jon until he screamed for mercy then made him watch a special show. Jon was held tightly by his Master as Griff was raped by five men then locked into a small cage. "You did that, Jon. You are like poison to them now. They should fear and hate you soon enough. The next one to have your assistance and compassion shall be slaughtered for food. And you will eat him." Jon never looked at another Crow again, even if one brushed by him, Jon whimpered and moved away fast. And it became normal. The first night that Styr felt Jon was ready for sex again, Jon fought. He couldn't help himself, the memories were horrific. Even one person doing that to him again was too much. Styr easily overpowered the weakening man and whispered into his ear. "You are making it so hard on yourself, pet." Then he brutally rode his screaming, thrashing pet. He enjoyed the fight, laughing when Jon managed to blacken his eye. Styr came hard into the rebellious pet and then grinned down at him. "I could have done this in front of everyone. Now because you fought me and were bad, that is what you can look forward to in the morning."

Tormund knocked on the door late that night one night and told Styr to come upstairs. He left his sleeping pet, whose collar was firmly chained to the bar on the window. Scouts had told of the unrest in the North. They understand that the Boltons are running the North, that a strange man with a strangely under-dressed army is heading for them. "We cannot stay here long, we must advance. I want you to go speak with these Boltons, do not attack them, speak with them. Ramsay Bolton is willing to speak with us, he has sent a raven. It may be a trick or it could be for real. They are offering a deal, if we fight with them against this Stannis, they will allow us safe passage. They also offer some land for those who cannot travel further. Take your men and go negotiate with this Ramsay Bolton. We do not kneel, but we can shake hands on a deal." Styr grinned at the joyful thought of his pet dragging on his leash all the way to this Winterfell. "I warn you, might want to leave your pet here in my care." Mance said. "Winterfell is where Jon grew up. It was his home and it might bring back his will." Smiling cruelly, Styr said, "My pet goes where I go. I shall gather my men and leash my pet. I am sure he will be thrilled to see his old home again."


	7. Feeding a Wolf Pup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Styr encounters a problem that would hinder Jon from going on this trip. He must solve this problem before they leave.

Styr simply told Jon that they would be traveling. The pet timidly nodded, he trembled badly and Styr sighed. "You always have to make it so hard on yourself." A bowl of cold food sat on the floor, stew that was congealing. Only crumbs remained of the chunk of bread that goes with it was left. Jon would not eat any meat, even when he was assured that it was not human. He wouldn't trust it, only eating the small piece of bread. Three pieces of bread a day was not enough to do more than keep him alive. Jon was losing weight rapidly, his face almost gaunt and he seemed to shake all the time. "We can't have this, Jon. You cannot have enough strength for my trips and Jon, that annoys me. You don't want to annoy me, do you?" Flinching down, Jon shook his head quickly. "I am sorry, Master."

He was beaten just the night before for trying to beg Styr not to fuck him. Jon was cold, so sore and he could feel himself breaking to this man's will. It was shaming to know that he was too afraid to fight anymore. But he also couldn't eat human, there was no way he would choke down that stew. Jon groveled, he went to his stomach,then he inched to Styr's boots. With a timid movement, as if expecting to recieve a kick to his face, Jon kissed the snowy boot. "Please, Master, I want to obey you, I..I want to be good. But I can't...I cannot eat that." "Very well, Jon. Since you are trying so hard, I will give you this one mercy. The girl is doing the cooking for Mance and his men. She will make you some food and the boy will bring it so you know it's not human. If you eat all of it like a good puppy, I will have her make you food for our trip."

Taking advantage of Jon's gratitude, he used his pet's pretty mouth. Large hands gripped Jon's head, forcing a fast rhythm that grew more brutal. Styr paused when Jon nearly passed out from lack of oxygen. Holding his pet up, he lightly slapped Jon's face. "Breathe, puppy. I need you to breathe." Stry cooed, as his little wolf pup took deep whooping breaths. "Good boy, my obedient little puppy. Now slow down your breaths, very good." Once Jon's color returned and he was breathing normally, Styr moved Jon's head back between his legs. With a whimper of despair, Jon began to suck again. After a few moments, groaning, Stry began to fuck Jon's throat again. Slower this time, speaking to Jon. "Relax your throat. Stay calm, breathe through your nose." Coaching his pet patiently, Styr moved faster and harder. When he came, Jon swallowed it all without gagging. Styr praised his miserable puppy afterwards while his pet silently sobbed.

That afternoon Olly came outside with a covered tray and on his arm, a small basket. He entered Styr's room where Jon was resting. Stry had decided with mild irritation that his pet was too weak to be crawling in the snow all day long. Jon looked up from the furs he was resting on when the boy entered. Olly had eyes of stone, of ice, like a White Walker, drained of all emotion. Jon trembled as he sat up, thankful he was not naked. Styr had ordered Jon to wear his wolf and stay in the furs to keep warm. His eyes were full of shame, his face red and he did not meet the boy's eyes. "Gilly made you this. It is chicken, look, you can tell. I made sure it was not in a stew or gravy, so you can tell. Here are potatoes and peas. And bread." Olly's impassive face seemed to twitch for a moment before he continued. "Styr says you are to eat everything here." Jon looked at the food and began to drool.

Jon grabbed the tray and began to eat. He used his hands, not bothering to even pick up a utensil. Olly watched the thin shaking man go at the food like an animal then looking away spoke again. It was a struggle to keep his voice even. "In this basket are supplies for you. Gilly made all of it herself. Hard strips of venison, a ton of traveling bread and a round of hard cheese. This should last you until you return." "Th...Thank you." Jon managed to say, before attacking his tray again. Olly left the room, unable to watch anymore. "I will pick up your tray when I bring your dinner." Then the boy flew out of the room. Jon cried in shame, but he kept shoving the food into his mouth.


	8. Push A Pet Enough, It Can Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Styr and Jon take the long walk to Winterfell with some other Thenns. A farm is encountered on the way and bad things happen.

Jon has taken many grueling walks in the snow, it has never been a hardship. Crawling through the snowstorm was a different thing. Many times, as the men all laughed, Styr would carry Jon like a sack of potatoes. Wildlings have more endurance than most and these only stopped at night, they ate and drank while moving.  Even the night stop was only a few hours at most then back moving again.  When they would stop, Jon collapsed into a ball trembling until he warmed. A large fire would burn for those few blessed hours and Jon got so close, he was singed. Styr would laugh and pull Jon back.

As much as Jon hated being raped by Styr, he didn't fight it. Too tired and to be honest, Styr warmed his frozen flesh. It was the only time Jon truly was not cold and he took great comfort in that. If Styr tried to kneel up from Jon while fucking him, the pet would whimper and plead for Styr to cover him again. Styr took great amusement and advantage of this. The few other men that traveled with them slept a small distance away. Jon hated that the other men could hear them, even see them. Sometimes they yell things or laugh, they always taunt the "little whore" with it. Styr says nothing, on occasion joins in to taunt his pup. He likes to see him turn so red with humiliation and the pet stiffens in suppressed anger.

They passed a small farmhouse and the Thenns couldn't resist. A chance for fresh meat and they can sleep in a fancy house. Which meant they would take great pleasure in pissing all over it then setting it on fire. Styr reminded his men again that they must take anything of use before their destruction. Also, they are not to harm any crops, by the time more Wildlings advance this far, they will need it. The men grumbled but agreed. Jon was horrified and began to beg Styr. "Please, Master! These are innocent farmers! They don't deserve to die because you passed by them!" Styr crouched low and grabbed Jon's chin. He yanked upwards hard and looked earnestly into his eyes. "I eat Crows, farmers, lords, kings, queens and small plump children. Do you understand that, pet?"

Jon whimpered and whispered, "Yes Master." A gentle pat to Jon's head then Styr said, "I was going to tie you here, in that little ditch. Now I think it's better that you come watch. So you can understand me better, Jon. I do mean watch, pet. If you look away, I will cut off your foot and eat it in front of you." Jon swallowed thickly and swore he would not look away. He dared not beg not to watch and crawled to where his Master wanted him. Tying Jon's leash to a gate post Styr pulled out his axe and chased a screaming woman. It was a farm run by a very large family and Jon watched them all slain. Even down to a screaming baby that Styr carried over to Jon.

Kneeling down in front of Jon, Styr set the crying infant down. "Should I cook him or just eat him alive, Jon?" Sobbing, Jon tried to reach for the baby, but Styr rolled it away like a stone. "Oh please, Master, don't please! Just...snap his neck then fast, please don't make him suffer!" Styr handed Jon a large stone and moved the baby in front of him. He held the tiny squirming thing by its body. "Smash it's head or I am going to eat this babe alive. You want to ask for mercy, here it is. Show the babe your mercy, pet." Jon looked up at Styr and saw that no amount of leniency will be given. Styr lifted an eyebrow and said, "Are you having trouble with this decision, Jon? Want me to decide for you? Because unlike you, I have no mercy towards my meat."

When Styr moved to lift the infant Jon screamed and brought the rock down hard.  Jon spun away to vomit, not looking at what he had done. "Jon, what did I say about not looking? As soon as you are done vomiting, turn back around." With a whimper, Jon turned a moment later but the baby was gone. He caught a glimpse of gore and hurriedly covered it with snow. Jon sobbed on and off while the Thenns began to cook the family. After a few minutes, Styr came over and untied the leash. "Let's get you inside a nice house, pet. You aren't very tough and you need your rest to travel tomorrow." Even Styr's taunting voice could not turn Jon from the numb horror in his brain.

For the next hour, Jon was silent and obedient. He was kneeling in front of the kitchen fireplace, on a soft rug that Styr had found him. Styr had gone back outside and men had come and gone, Jon did not care. Then two Thenns came in and sat down, drinking the farmers ale. They were complaining of the taste while clutching meat. Jon saw the tiny limbs, the small round body and he became a Wolf. Launching himself forward, snarling, growling, drooling, Jon bit deep into a leg. As his teeth worried the leg, sinking deep, ignoring the blows raining on him, his fist rammed into the others groin. That man fell down with a high pitched cry and the man he was chewing a huge piece of flesh out of was screaming.

When Styr pulled Jon off of the bleeding man, he saw Jon spit a huge chunk of flesh out. In spite of his anger and surprise, Styr chuckled. "Jon, I thought you didn't like human flesh?"


	9. Cry If You Are Sorry

Styr finds himself conflicted. He loves his timid Jon, begging and cringing. He also loves this fierce one with blood upon his mouth, a feral little beast. After all, shouldn't a Wilding have a rugged feral pet that only can be tamed by the owner? He must punish Jon for daring to attack the men unprovoked.

However, he wants Jon to attack anyone who tries to take liberties with Styr's property. This must be done carefully, his puppy was still learning. Jon was still panting, spitting out blood, but no longer struggling. He lay in his Master's arms now, shuddering, trying to suppress growling whine.

First he must calm his overstressed pet. No good comes of a punishment when Jon is in this state. "Shh, calm yourself puppy. Foolish wolf, look at how upset you are. Hush now, I have you, lean into me, good boy. Slow down your breathing, Jon. There you are, can you tell me who I am?" "M..Master. My Master." "Very good. Now I want you to listen to me carefully. Will you do that, pet?" "Yes Master." Jon burst into tears and Styr smirked. "Welcome back, Jon. Good boy, keep your eyes on me."

Jon looked into his Master's eyes and they were wide and aware. "Sorry. I am sorry, please. Master, I am sorry." "Hush." Jon instantly flinched down and went dead silent. "Now, I am going to punish you for biting my men for no good reason. Just because they were eating something you do not like. So you are going to scream your apologies at them while I hurt you." Now Styr raised his voice and eyes to scan all the men. They had all crowded in to watch this show.

He continued speaking to his pet but his glance landed on every one of his men. "Jon, you are being punished for attacking unprovoked. Now if someone, anyone tried to rape you, take you away or hurt you that is different. Then you may defend yourself any way you can. Rip their throats out if need be and it will be forgiven, praised in fact. Do you understand that, Jon?"

Even though Jon nodded, every man there understood and lowered their eyes. Styr ripped off his puppy's fur and then flung Jon over the farmers table. Jon was forced to put his head to the right where all the men could see his face. "Do not dare turn your head or try to escape your punishment. Or it will be ten times worse. Understand me, little puppy?" Jon shivered at the quiet menace and managed to squeak out, "Yes Master."

Styr had to consider that if he injured his pet too much, it will just make him slower. Jon barely could crawl in this storm as it is. He settled for giving him a good stroke over his entire backside from shoulders to heels. Jon sobbed and screamed before it ended. "Please, I am sorry, forgive me, Master!" He had begged it several times before Styr had casually given him another stroke, saying, "It is not me you need to apologize to. Look at your victims and start apologizing till I finish beating you." Jon had sobbed and screamed how sorry he was.

 Styr put his belt back on satisfied that Jon understands his lesson. He lifted Jon and put him back on the ground. Throwing the furs at him, Styr tells him to get dressed. Turning to the crowd, mainly looking at the two injured men, Styr announces, "That is the end of it. I cannot truly injure him while we are marching. The puny pup can barely keep up as it is." No one dared to say anything, but Styr sees the anger in some eyes. He plans to make sure his wolf understands defending himself is good.

"Jon, follow." He commanded and went to seek the upstairs bedroom. Whimpering in pain, Jon crawled after his Master. Hiding under his furs was a snarl as he passed by the glaring men. None of them dared touch Jon but the one he bit whispered. "I won't forget this, tiny bitch. Styr is a busy man. He won't be around you every second." Jon tried to ignore him and follow Styr. The stairs dug splinters into his hands and he winced.


	10. A Wolf Howling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A danger looms over Jon and soon the man he bit will get his revenge.  
> Styr is enjoying Jon's struggle to remain human or turn into an animal.  
> Jon is figuring out that being a wolf is much easier than dealing with human emotions.  
> Olly and Gilly have become the perfect servants.

Toq bore no love for Crows, but he had tolerated Jon's existence. They all found amusement in the crawling, humiliated man that Styr kept as a pet. It was not the hunk of flesh removed from his leg or even the taunting of the others over being attacked by a broken boy. When Jon had come snarling and foaming at Toq, it scared the hell out of him. Not for long and no one saw it but the fact that it happened was intolerable. He watched and waited, fantasizing about the many ways to bring the pet down.  Jon and Styr were both aware of the hostility that emanated from the man. Jon was very careful to only stay with his Master at all times. Struggling onwards through the snow, Toq found no chance to attack Jon before they were camping to meet Ramsay Bolton. The near child was getting stranger by the day, turning more like an animal than a Crow. This unnerved Toq a bit and that too was unforgivable. He would make sure he was alone on watch and masturbate to things he plans to do.

Jon no longer felt like a man really. Because any man that would smash a baby's head in, that would betray his brothers, any man that would do things Jon has done...That was the type of man Jon would despise. He mainly crawls, the few times he tried to practice walking it was near agony just to lurch about. The hammer had truly done its work and Jon would need a cane to ever walk for more than a minute. There was no way Styr would allow it. One time he caught Jon on his feet without permission, he dragged Jon over to the fire and burned the bottoms of his feet. Jon sobbed and buried his agonizingly painful feet into the snow pile. He kept sobbing apologies, tears and snot dripping down his face, in front of all the others and he had no shame left. There was no humiliation to even think of yet, just appeasing this man who can hurt him so badly.  Styr sat on the ground and pulled Jon into his lap. He made sure that Jon's feet were firmly in the snow and then soothed the hysterical pet. "I know it is terrible, the pain. Poor little puppy. You are my little pup, aren't you? Hush, no more words, just shake or nod your head." Whining, panting, Jon nodded his head.

A large hand covered Jon's scalp and gently began to move downwards firmly until it reached his neck. Fingers began to massage the tense muscles. Then it curled around the back of Jon's neck and after staying there lightly squeezing, it traveled upwards to repeat the process. Jon needed comfort, he needed to have a small shred of kindness. The pain was lessening in the snow and now he can hear the jeering from the Thenns. Jon whimpered and allowed his body to relax under the feeling of safety and love, however fake it may be. "Good boy, there is my obedient little pet again.  I need you to listen very carefully to everything I say, do you understand me? Pay very close attention to my words, Jon. Because if we were not out here where there are no healers, I would have not just smashed your other leg with my hammer. I would also have taken one of your feet off. We would be eating it for dinner, even if I had to force it down your throat. Walking and standing are things you only do if I give permission. I have told you that before and I hope to never repeat it again. Because if I do, you will recieve that exact punishment. Listen to you whimper like that, you sound and look so scared, puppy. Good, a very good puppy should be scared of displeasing their owner. A scared dog doesn't try and act like man, does he?" With wide eyes, Jon shook his head and tears scalded his frozen flesh.

That is when Jon decided being a man, that kind of man was worse than being a pet. So he became an animal, inch by inch as they fought through storms. He did concede that crawling was easier and hurt much less than trying to walk.   When he couldn't crawl, his kind Master would carry him. Jon has began to truly rely on Styr for everything, just like a puppy would. He no longer spoke unless Styr demanded a vocal answer. Men speak and he is no longer a man, he would rather not talk, it was easier to be a silent pet. He was no longer a man. Styr calls him a puppy now. But Jon knew he was a wolf and that is what he is. A silent, beaten down wolf that still has enough feral in him to attack anyone he deems a threat. Several times Styr has hurt him for growling at the men. By the time they reached the small Bolton encampment, Jon was already beginning to forget that he had been a man. Styr had been pleased with Jon's progress during the long walk. He watched as the boy gave in, he enjoyed the mental struggle Jon had to go through. The more Jon acted like a true pet, the more obedient and affectionate to Styr he became. In return, Styr gave more praise and small rewards to the scared puppy.

Since the day Jon started acting more like a pet, Styr began a nightly ritual. Every night that they stopped for their short sleep, Styr would take Jon right there in front of anyone who cared to look. Stroking Jon's cock, thrusting deep to find that spot that made Jon cry out. "Good boy, move in my hand if you want to, its okay. I want this to feel good for you, Jon. You love this don't you, when Master is kind enough to let you feel so good. Tell me, puppy, does it feel very good?" And Jon would wail out what his Master wanted to hear, no real man would do that. So he howled in pain and pleasure like a lost wolf. Day by day a little more of who and what he was slipped away so things were easier. No longer did Jon flinch when they slaughtered on their way. He would lay obediently tied to a tree nearby with his eyes closed. Sometimes he sobbed but the last time, he didn't bother. It didn't seem to be worth it to cry when they were going to die anyway. He couldn't save them, he shouldn't cry over that.  Now he thinks he only cries for his Master's pleasure. Styr was carrying his pet close to his chest and Jon was grateful for it. Now his Master is putting Jon on the ground. "We camp here. Tomorrow we see the Bolton boy and talk. You will come with me, Jon." Nodding his head, Jon had forgotten who they were seeing. For some reason, he knew who the Bolton's were, but he didn't want to recall why. It seemed much safer,easier that way.

Never were there in the history of Westeros, were there two more silent,excellent servants, than Olly and Gilly. Too bad it was wasted here at the Wall on a group of Wildlings. There was never a reason to chastise or to even sigh. Cersei Lannister would have made them her personal servants and they would have lived rich lives. Mance and his higher up men never had an empty cup or plate. They never had to ask or reach for anything,one of the omnipresent and silent ghosts were there. It unnerved them all, even Mance, but they all accepted it. They no longer were escorted or even watched at all. There was no need, not once has either of them attempted to run. Only speaking if spoken to, obeying any order given, so Mance treated them according to how they behaved. They were each given small rooms next to each other, with a bunk from the Crows rooms and a chamber pot. They had candles and warm fur pelts, plus Gilly was allowed to sew new clothing for herself and Olly. Taking from the Crow clothing, Gilly made herself a simple dress that looked like a shroud. Olly was given a thick tunic, undershirt and breeches. He no longer looked like a Crow, the boy looked like an impoverished knight's son. His hair has grown wild and unruly,he had a comb but never bothered to use it. At Mance's command, he washed it and bathed. Like any very depressed youth, hygiene is not important, yet Mance would not stand for it. That was the only time Olly showed any emotion, he was stiff when he answered. "Yes, I will wash. I will always obey, even when I feel opposed to the order."   Mance had only looked amused and relieved somehow which confused Olly. "Ah, that tone must mean you don't agree. I don't care, boy. You stink and I think that hair is crawling. I am trying to teach my people how to fit better here. If I insist they all wash then you must wash too. Now go take a bath or I will send someone to help you!"

They served and they watched and they waited. It was easy to steal things, these men didn't know or care where everything had been. They never took anything anyone would notice. Books that must be saved, artifacts that should be protected, small weapons. So many different blades, hooks, pieces of leather that Gilly can sew into things, into clothing. They served, they obeyed and waited.


	11. All Hell Breaks Loose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Styr and Ramsay meet. They find common ground and then their pets remember the past.  
> Olly and Gilly are ready to make their move.

The sun rose a brilliant orange and for the North it was hot, hotter than it should be. Ice melted, snow turned into glittering puddles of water and the ground was muddy. The Bolton camp and the Thenns camp were now easy to spot barely the length of field between them. Styr spoke to his men while Jon huddled at his feet eating the last of the food provided for him. His Master had promised to either hunt for him or find food at the next farm they attacked on the way back. Jon did not worry about it, Styr meant what he said always. If he said his pet would be fed than that was that. Jon found it much easier to let his Master worry and think about things. "Jon, I expect a very silent, very well behaved puppy at my side today. Do you hear me, Jon? You are only an example of what we have done to the Crows to Ramsay's eyes. A show of what I am capable of. Be very good today or you will deeply regret it, my little boy." 

 

Gilly and Olly were preparing for a normal day that they were going to make very bad. Without a word, Gilly had appeared at Olly's door and handed him a new outfit. The boy nodded and Gilly went back to her room. Late last night, they had spoken in their usual stilted cold way and they have decided it is time to act. If they die in this attempt that is fine with them, at least it is a way out of this hellish anger that is stifling, murdering them slowly. They each put on new outfits and cover themselves almost completely with a cloak. Of course, usually the keep here is freezing at the Wall, even inside there is need for extra covering. The sun is against them and it is already warm, it was worse with the cloaks but no one said a word. No one ever notices them unless they are needed. This is to their advantage and they use it.

 

Styr walked forward towards Ramsay with confidence and a slight menace in his step. Jon crawled next to him silently, head down. The other man did not move, just watched with a smile on his face. That smile became even brighter and his eyes filled with delight at the sight of the crawling fur covered creature. "You made a pet out of one of them, didn't you?" Were the first words Ramsay spoke to the Thenn. Grinning, Styr nodded and said, "This was a baby crow named Jon Snow. He is still called Jon, but he is my pup now. Does that shock you, Lord Ramsay?" He emphasized the name in sarcasm. Ramsay gave a charming twist of his lips and head. "I approve and I am only shocked to see how much we have in common. This is my pet, Reek." With a tiny snap of his fingers, a slight figure that had been hiding behind Ramsay, clutching the back of Master's cloak, came forward. With a shuffle, the creature knelt beside Ramsay, looking down at the mud he was sinking in. Rags covered him and it was obvious he hasn't bathed in a very long time.

The two men admired each others slaves as they started to speak. Having one thing in common gave way for other things to be discussed but they had stopped noticing their pets. Jon had been good and silent, trying to behave ignoring the words above him. Then a crick in his neck so  he looked up then froze. That stinking creature kneeling only a foot from him somehow was familiar. Then it all burst over him like a waterfall, all of it hit at once. With a dreadful growl, Jon bared his teeth fully at this enemy. "Theon." One word and it was enough for Reek to suddenly look straight at him.   At first there was just blank terror of another threat, then Reek seemed to understand and know who this was. Reek gave a scream as Jon gave a roar then leaped at his prey.

 

No one noticed the small cloaked figure releasing a few of the prisoners. Pyp and a few scattered men, wounded, starved but still ready to try and fight at all costs. They slipped away and helped with lighting the fires in several locations. Burning down food sources, burning supplies, weapons and the keep itself. Wildings attacked them and the prisoners mostly died but not before destroying much of what was needed for the enemy to survive. 

Gilly had removed her cloak just moments before it was time to serve Mance his midday meal. It was carefully timed the same everyday and she served as Olly and the Crows were getting ready to burn things. He sits in a chair at a small table, she always serves him from behind, to be unobtrusive. Today she poured his ale, put down a platter of leeks and wild game. As he began to eat, Gilly saw that his table salt was missing. In a graceful movement, she put down his salt in front of him as her knife started to carve into his throat. Mance tried to grab her but something was wrong. Her dress covered everything but her face today. And everywhere Mance tried to grab her was sharp somehow. His hands were cut badly enough for the loss of nerves in his fingers. It didn't matter anymore as he bled out onto his lunch. She stepped away and hid, waiting for Tormund to have his usual visit with his King.

 

Olly has removed his cloak too and was creeping the hallways. Killing men that run past him, they can't win against such rage and passion as this boy has. The prejudice and hatred that fills this boy is terrifying. He passes by a mother and baby, seconds later he murdered them both. Allowing fury to move him, the boy hears the panic of fire, hears the screams that Mance is dead and keeps moving. He is heading back towards the yard again. Releasing the rest of the prisoners during the riot of panicked Wildlings, even the weakest of the men attack the remaining Thenns. The cannibals are torn apart and by then the keep is fully blazing. Any man that could make it, followed Olly away from the Wall. In his outfit that was cloth covered in razors, blades and glitters with small spikes, he leads them to find Styr and Jon. They will murder the Magnar and his men. Jon...it depends on what is left of him. A mercy killing might be all that can be done for him.

Tormund was stunned by the attack but he was much stronger. Even the deep cuts from her clothing and the several deep stabs with her knife did not take him down. Instead, he smashed the girl's head like an egg on the floor. Before he could even mourn the death of Mance, screams of fire came forth. He ran into smoke, fire, rioting and death. Holding onto the walls, blood pouring from several places, Tormund tried to salvage what he could. Order could not be brought forth and panic seemed to reign. He was going to kill that brat that just helped the girl destroy everything Tormund held dear. 


	12. Who The Hell Do You Think You Are?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Olly and his band of wounded Crows get closer to Styr and Jon, the closer Tormund gets to Olly.  
> Jon learns what has really become of Theon Greyjoy and learns to never anger two sadistic Masters at the same time. Ever. Toq has a grand old time of his own watching the pet he despises recieve from torture.

Olly was only a boy, just a tired, traumatized boy and yet he was all these wounded, starved men had for hope. They followed him, he spoke of revenge, of rebuilding with the help of Northern Lords. Lords that will be thankful that the remaining Crows defended them all from the Wildlings. He hunted and provided his men with whatever game he could find. They came across each farm that Styr has attacked and it fueled their need for vengeance. They were  not more than a day behind by Olly's reckoning. Technically, they were on the Bolton's land, then again, it was all under their protection. Olly wonders if the Boltons have already met with Styr. Regardless of anything they might have heard of the Boltons, they were northern men. Surely they already were either sending the Thenns on their way or imprisoning them. He hoped the savage Thenns have not just slaughtered and eaten them. It was what he truthfully fears will happen and hopes to prevent. 

Tormund did what he could but most of the survivors fled. He was injured and too weak to race about, trying to save the wounded. Yet he did it anyway to the best of his ability. When the Wildlings started to branch off towards different parts of the North, that is when Tormund began to track Olly and his Crows. He was fast moving, in spite of injuries and this was his main quest. To avenge his lost by killing that boy and those Crows. Then he will speak with Styr and see where they have gotten with Bolton. Mance was gone but Tormund needs to continue this mission to save their people. First, his anger and grief demands that he stop this little band of Crows. He walks only taking refuge and rest for an hour here and there. The rags covered in blood he sees on the road are getting fresher and he sees a fire banked not long before. Closer now. Tormund leans against a tree and shuts his eyes. Close enough that he can maybe rest just one more hour.

 Styr and Ramsay both reacted fast when Jon landed on top of the screaming Reek. "THEON! TRAITOR! KILL YOU! MY BROTHERS! MURDERER!" Roared Jon as he pummeled and bit at this stinking wretch that just screamed high pitched. First Styr grabbed Jon's collar and yanked while Ramsay gave him a sharp kick to the ribs. "JON, HOW DARE YOU! BAD PET! OFF HIM NOW!" This roar was deeper, more menacing and louder than Jon and he cringed a bit. Enough that he was yanked roughly back by his Master then tossed hard against a tree. As Jon slid down the bark to the snowy, muddy ground, he saw his Master's boots. Oh, I am in so much trouble, but it was him, it was that traitor, Theon! He doesn't understand, thought Jon still staring at Theon beyond Styr. This didn't sit well with his Master and Jon was kicked in the face hard. Coughing on blood, Jon tried to stammer an apology to his Master. "Sorry, please! Its him! Its Theon, traitor! Master, he killed my brothers!" It was so hard for Jon to speak so much these days. It all came out as a guttural grunt until the last sentence and even that was forced out.

Leaning forward, Styr spoke harshly into Jon's ear. "I don't give a fuck who that is, Jon. I told you to behave, stay silent and still today, didn't I? You are only my broken wolf, just my little pet so why does it matter who he is? You are not a Crow,you are not a Stark or even a Snow anymore. Did you forget that, bad little pup? You have disappointed me today, Jon and you will pay all night long, I promise you." Even as he paled and groveled before his Master, Jon glared at Theon again. Ramsay was checking his pet for any real injuries and was satisfied to find none. The cowardly thing was crying out "Reek! Reek!" over and over again. With a shushing sound, Ramsay stood his pet back up and then smiled at Styr. "It is alright, I understand your pet's confusion. If that is Jon Snow then he has a past with my little Reek. Before I came along, this was an arrogant little lord and prince. Now he is just my Reek, a harmless weak pet of mine." With a look full of sadistic glee, Ramsay grinned at Jon. "I will prove it to you. That is is no longer any Theon you might remember." The man looked at the cowering, trembling creature and commanded, "Reek, remove your clothing and let Jon see what you really are. All your clothing, please. Now." Reek sobbed but dared not disobey. 

 Jon saw the missing fingers and toes, the scars and burns everywhere. The missing teeth and hollow eyes were a good addition as well. However, when he saw that scar between the terrified and humiliated traitor's legs, Jon winced. "Why torture him, why not just kill him?" Jon asked, unable to stop himself, even when Styr gave him a threatening look. Ramsay smirked and drawled, "For the same reason that Styr has decided to make you his pet." That did not really answer the question but Jon was becoming more and more nervous of his Master's looks. As Jon has calmed down he is seeing how much trouble he is in for his actions. "I..I am sorry, Lord Bolton. Sorry Master." Both men laughed and Styr said dryly, "Oh pet that is very nice of you, but too late I am afraid. How should I punish my bad pet for hurting your little pet? Keep in mind that I need him to be able to travel back to the Wall with me, Lord Ramsay." Jon didn't make a sound as they discussed this. Ramsay stopped talking with Styr long enough to tell his pet to get dressed before he got frostbitten. Theon has not once looked at Jon since the attack. He hurries to dress then stands very still and silent, large empty eyes staring hard at the ground. That is when Jon sees the attack was for nothing. He will hurt now for no real reason at all because that was no longer Theon Greyjoy. He was no longer Jon Snow and he will pay for forgetting that.

Stupidly he was not paying attention so did not understand what was happening at first. Ramsay had a knife out and Styr was holding Jon immobile. His weight crushed his pet as Styr forced Jon's bare arm along a cold rock. Reek was kneeling now and crying softly not taking his eyes of his Master. When the man began to flay Jon, he screamed so loud it was enough to scare the birds out of the trees nearby. Reek made tiny noises in sympathy but neither man noticed that. The pain was so horrifying, that Jon blacked out, woke and pleaded, begged, drooled and vomited. After the first few seconds, when the pain paralyzed him, Jon felt Styr rip the rags off his backside. Then Styr opened his own breeches and took his pet harshly. He thrust and had an orgasm to the sound of Jon howling from having a small part of his arm flayed. Ramsay finally stopped taking skin but it was only to use Jon's mouth. Styr urged Ramsay, saying it was only fair since Jon needed to have a better apology than just the word sorry. The man slammed hard into Jon's face, grabbing his hair and head. Just before the man came he began to choke Jon. He passed out and woke up with a mess on his face, laying half in a puddle of mud. 

Toq shuddered to a finish behind the bushes that sheltered him from sight. He was slightly jealous that some uppity Southern Lord got to flay Jon. That was one of the many fantasies Toq had about the arrogant little wolf. That was alright, there were plenty of other things to do to Jon once he catches him. In fact, Jon screamed so wonderfully during that flaying, Toq might just flay the other arm or maybe Jon's cock. He seemed so horrified at what that broken man had under his breeches. Yes, flaying Jon's cock then raping him sounded like such a good plan, Toq masturbated again.


	13. No Men Here At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ending to all these bloody little games....

Heeding Styr's warning that his pet needed to be in good enough shape to make it back to the Wall, Ramsay summoned a maester's assistant. The young man carefully used ointments and wrapped Jon's arm and finger tightly. A small vial containing days worth of painkiller was handed to Styr along with ointment and bandages for later. Styr gave his crying little wolf pup some mercy and put two drops in his drooling mouth. "Since you took your punishment so well, boy. When it gets painful again later, we shall see how you have been behaving." Jon sobbed and kissed his Master's hands, groveling, cowed. "Good Jon, good pet, please." He whimpered out in a battered rusty voice, weak and scared. "You are forgiven, Jon. But I expect very good behavior from you if you don't want me to hurt you more tonight." Jon trembled and leaned against his Master, whimpering in gratitude when Styr's hand rubbed his scalp.

In Ramsay's warm large tent now, the men were sitting and drinking. Their pets at their sides, they spoke of Mance and the need to move further north. Both of them drinking and soon enough agreeing to tentative terms. Then cruel and drunk eyes turned back towards the pets. Ramsay gave a smirk and said to Styr, "You know, I know of a perfect way to make sure Jon understands that there is no Theon left to attack. It will not injure him at all, I swear it." With a shrug and a tense voice that let Jon know his Master was still angry with him, Styr agreed. "Can he stand up like a real boy for this? He needs to be standing or sitting in a chair." Grunting, Styr hoisted Jon up under his arms and bore his weight easily.  "There he is standing." "Excellent, thank you Styr. Now Jon this is to prove to you that not a shred of Theon Greyjoy lives inside my creature. Even in your shattering bestial mind you can remember how Theon was. How arrogant, the ultimate ladies man, the brash idiot that bragged how he was a prince. You remember that, don't you? Good. Now Reek, I want you to go suck Jon's cock for me and swallow everything."

In his horror, Jon attempted to struggle for a second but Styr's gripped tightened into agony. "Do not dare." Styr's voice was so deep and menacing, he whimpered, going still. "Please." Slipped out but Styr just gritted out, "Test me one more time, Jon. See what happens, go on." Only a low whimper as an answer, Jon watched Reek crawl to him. This former man, this broken, terrified thing was bug eyed and clearly insane. Theon would never have knelt and eagerly taken his cock deep in his throat. It was incredible and sickening all at once and Jon screamed, shaking his head. Styr simply held him immobile and Ramsay urged his pet on. A large hand gripped his head and forced him to watch Reek's bobbing head. Jon sobbed and when he finally threw his head back and howled, the creature swallowed every drop. Then immediately flew back to his Master's side, silent, blank. To complete the lesson, both pets were put together in a small lean to while the men walked in the snow, talking. No chains or leashes, just a lean to that wasn't even guarded. Both of them were too smart for that old trick and stayed under the cloth. For warmth they were back to back silent and resting. And then a nightmare burst in on them.

 

Tormund caught up with the wounded crows and killed them, every one of them. The last one died the slowest, mainly because Tormund needed to know where the fucking little kid was. It took a bit of torture before the man caved. He kept going and before long saw the Bolton camp the little fucker must already be at.

Olly was sure he made the right decision leaving the wounded brothers in a safe spot. They were all brave and determined but they might slow him down. This is up to him to kill Styr, to free Jon. So he edged up and waited for a chance to infiltrate the camp. What was shocking him the most was seeing Ramsay and Styr walking together. They were getting along quite well it seemed and was there no end to this betrayal? Was all of the North against the Crows? Perhaps the Boltons must be brought down as well, seeing as they are traitors to the North.  He began to  slip closer, wondering where Styr has left Jon.

 

Toq fell on Jon like a boulder, crushing him down face first into the frozen dirt. He glared over at Reek, who was cowering in terror. "One word and I will eat your tongue. One movement and I eat every bit of you." Reek stared and remained frozen. Jon tried to fight but he was tired and hurt. He was also drugged and that made him clumsy and slow. "I can't decide if I should fuck you while I flay your cock or fuck then flay. What do you think I should do, Jon. Never mind, I don't want to hear any of your words, just your screams." Strong hands were strangling until Jon was limp. Gasping for air once the hands wrenched away, Jon heard with horror, the sound of breeches being pulled down. Even worse was the flaying knife he saw when he finally managed to move again. Then the man grimaced and blood poured from his mouth.  As the man was shoved to the side to die, Jon stared up at Olly. Except he did not quite remember his name, this boy. It was something he shouldn't remember. It was easier not to remember and Jon couldn't remember his name.

The boy seemed to look very sad then resolute. A look of disgust had crossed his eyes before any of the other emotions. That was agonizing to Jon for a second. And that was unforgivable for this boy to make Jon feel a man's emotion. To prove he was no man, Jon attacked just as Olly was unsheathing his dagger. He ripped the tender throat out with his teeth, growling and roaring while Reek curled up shivering.

That night Tormund had shown up just in time to join Ramsay and Styr for a special dinner. Styr was no longer angry with Jon and was even rubbing his pet's scalp soothingly. Jon kept his eyes half closed and leaned into his Master's leg, grateful for the comfort. It did not bother him that Tormund was seeing this. Jon did not care about anyone but his Master, it was so much easier that way. The meat was for the men, the organs were put in a bowl for Reek. Jon was gnawing on the bones like a wolf. Tormund refused anything but bread and wine. He might be disappointed that he did not get to kill Olly, but he still won't try Crow.


End file.
